Scars
by BenAddict Holmes
Summary: Some scars fade, some others don't. Thanks to him, hers did. Prompt from MorbidByDefault. One shot. references from The Illustrious Client. Please read and review! Rated T for some hinted violence.


**Author's note : Hi! Here's another story for y'all, it's a prompt from MorbidByDefault who really has some of the best ideas that I've ever heard. This one is a bit angsty but it has a happy ending. I hope you like it! Please read and review! Your reviews keep me going and I love you all so much :)**

**Disclaimer : Not mine. Move on.**

The doors of the St. Bart's morgue slammed open and in strode the world's only consulting detective and his flatmate-blogger-doctor-best friend, John Watson. Molly was sitting at her desk filing out some paper work and hadn't even looked up when the duo had entered. True, the men loved their dramatic entrance, but the novelty wore off after seeing them barge again and again into a place they had no reason to be, every single day. She continued her work, blatantly ignoring the Greek god like detective, just to see how long he took to bark out instructions at her.

Sure enough, the orders came immediately. 'Molly, I need to see Mr. Andrews who was brought in yesterday. I hope you've prepared the reports of the culture samples I was working on yesterday. It would be very inconvenient having to wait for them any longer. While you're at it, get me a coffee, Black two sugars' he spoke in his usual monotone, not even looking at her.

John strode over to her, muttering apologies on behalf of his friend. She smiled and shrugged, too used to everything by now and wheeled out Mr. Andrews. She opened her cupboard and took out the reports of his cultures and exited the morgue quietly to go to the cafeteria and have a nice cup of coffee herself. She smiled to herself sadly as she climbed up the stairs. The scenario was so familiar to her now that it almost felt routine.

Sherlock watched her go and nodded in satisfaction. He liked it when she was cooperative because it meant that he didn't have to bother with complimenting her to get something done. Though he had done this quite often and he wasn't proud to admit it, he had always meant whatever he had said. Her hair did look better when parted to the side and lipstick really made her look more attractive. He had never complimented her clothes for this very reason. They were very unflattering to say in the least. He supposed she knew this, so complimenting her clothes would be stretching it too far. Suddenly, it struck him that there was something different about her clothes this morning. He hadn't looked at her properly but she was in his peripheral field of vision.

She came back carrying two mugs of coffee, one for him and one for John. And she was wearing a scarf. Who wore a scarf in the middle of May? Well, except for him. Now that he thought of it, her attire had comprised of turtlenecks and high collared dresses for the past week. When she wore her normal clothes, her hair was always open, pulled over one shoulder. He had not thought of it as significant but the scarf was definitely out of place.

He frowned slightly as she handed him the mug. ' Is something wrong?' she asked, worried.

'No, everything's fine' he assured her with a smile. And noticed something else.

She didn't blush. Usually, one smile from him would make her go a brilliant shade of magenta but today, nothing. She just gave him a half hearted smile before walking back to the desk. He shrugged and carried on with his examination of Mr. Andrews.

'Molly, will you come here and give me a hand with the examination of Andrews? I need to see something. A man's life depends on it' he called out, knowing that she wouldn't refuse once he had said that man's life depended on it. She cared too much. He could make her out from the corner of his eye, looking from the computer to him, debating.

'Oh, just come here already Molly. I really need to take a look at this' he called out again. She sighed, and walked towards him with a pair of latex gloves in her hand. She drew back the sleeves of her apron to put on the gloves, distinctly turning away from him when she did so but he had already seen.

On her forearms were marks of a man's fingers, clearly someone who had been rough with her. He supposed it was her current boyfriend. He shook his head mentally in disbelief. She did have a horrible taste in men and this was the proof. Why was she still with the guy anyway? Why hadn't she broken up with him? He really couldn't understand her sometimes.

His eyes widened slightly when he realised that this was probably why she was wearing a scarf. For reasons unknown to him, he felt a surge of anger towards the man who had done this to her.

'Was it your current boyfriend?' he asked her quietly.

'W-what? I don't know what you mean, Sherlock' she said quickly. Too quickly. She knew what he was talking about.

'Don't pretend Molly. You've been trying to cover up your neck and your arms since the past week. Turtlenecks and high collars are fine but who wears a scarf in May? Really Molly, you should've at least been a little more innovative. Who did it then? Not a family member, they must be sensible people like you, not likely to have treated you this poorly, not an accidental stranger because the marks on your left hand are fresh, newer than the ones on your right which leaves out your current boyfriend then. I'd advise you to break it off before he hurts you anymore Molly, it would be a terrible inconvenience if you got hurt too badly to come to work and my experiments-'

He was silenced by a latex covered hand colliding hard with his face. He stood for a moment blinking at her, watching her as her breathing hitched and tears began to pool in her eyes. Oh God. This was not good. He wasn't good with crying people at all. John had left a while ago to meet his girlfriend in the paediatrics department. They were quite alone in the morgue. And if he thought things couldn't have been worse, he was wrong, because at that precise moment his hand knocked off a flask of eosin stain on one of the shelves as he reached out to brush away Molly's tears. The flask didn't shatter but the liquid from it spilled, landing on Molly and staining her powder blue scarf, rendering it quite useless.

She had been saying something about all people not being perfect and there being ups and downs in every relationship but had suddenly stopped when the liquid had spilled onto her scarf.

She stared at him blankly and he stared back at her, not knowing what to say.

'I'm sorry' he muttered but she had already walked off and he knew it would be towards the lockers where she always kept an extra set of clothes. She walked ahead of him and he followed silently not saying a word but grabbing his scarf nevertheless. Once inside the locker room, she ripped the scarf away from her only to find him staring at her neck in shock, his own scarf hanging limply from his hands.

Scars, ugly, angry scars were adorning the left side of her neck, right from her ear to her collarbone. It took him no time to make out that they were acid burns, inflicted quite deliberately on the dainty girl in front of him. Another wave of anger surged inside him. Who would do that to her?

He wordlessly held out his own scarf to her and walked out of the hospital, for once having no words.

* * *

The moment he had set his eyes on the man, he knew there was something wrong with him. Molly's hair was swept to one shoulder again and he felt like punching the guy till he begged for mercy. But that would reveal too much to John and Molly had requested him to not speak of this to anyone.

So he decided to take matters into his own hands and give Molly a reason to break up with the vile man.

Which is why he was surprised when she stormed out after Jim, clearly upset with his deduction. He had thought she would be grateful, happy that she was free from the monster. But then, when did he understand her anyway?

* * *

It made sense when he found out that Jim wasn't just an abusive boyfriend but a criminal mastermind, a reckless, violent man who had merely used Molly to get to him. A pang of guilt went through him as he thought of what she had to suffer at the hands of the devil only because she worked with him.

Which is why he was surprised once again when she agreed to help him fake his death without the slightest sign of hesitation. What had he done to deserve such unwavering loyalty from her? She never ceased to surprise him.

When all the plans had been made, all the things she would need for his resuscitation were ready and basically, their work in the lab was done, she surprised him yet again by wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight and whispering into his ear, 'Please take care Sherlock. I wouldn't know what to do if you don't make it out of this alive. I - I love you Sherlock'.

He blinked once and then twice. It all made sense now. She loved him. That is why she had put up with all of his nonsense, catered to his every whim and fancy, suffered at the hands of his nemesis and just now had helped him, knowing fully that she might end up losing her licence if caught.

He instinctively hugged her closer to himself, kissing her forehead as they separated. His hands cradled her face and moved downward, hovering over her neck. His eyes closed and when they opened, there was a fire blazing in those pools of ice.

'I promise Molly' he said fiercely, ' I will never let him hurt you ever again'.

* * *

The plan was carried out smoothly and they were in her apartment, still not being able to believe that it had actually worked. They had performed Jim's autopsy together, who was under the name of Richard Brook but it was oddly relieving nevertheless, knowing that he was finally gone.

Sherlock was sitting on her couch and she was curled up on her armchair, in an old t shirt and a pair of shorts (it was May after all). Her hair was in a loose bun and Sherlock saw her bare neck for the first time since he had first found out. He smiled as he looked at the now old scars, no longer angry red but almost healed, her skin returning to the way it had always been, pale and without any blemishes.

**A/n : How was it? I hope it wasn't too depressing. **

**Leave a review maybe? ;)**

**Thanks to MorbidByDefault for such a wonderful prompt and for being a great friend. I hope I did justice to it :)**

**And thanks to my dearest Adi for being a lovely person and really nice friend :)**

**I love you all!**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


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